Brownsville Girl
Don I am in the ghetto, we know the power of the guns
We are the scars of violence
Son, turn in your guns
Think my shit is too real for them
A young girl killed by a
Same thing in Jamaica queens, right in front of McDonalds
The ghetto's on fire, the pyro is nothing but sorrow
It's burning inside the soul of the future kids of tomorrow
We used to use hip hop to teach us the way
For some reason these fucking artists don't reach us today
My little cousin got popped, he was slipping, he wasn't taught in
Plus was sipping too much of that vodka puffy promoted
My mama died, niggas was sending me yak
It was ironic, that shit was called hennesy black
Sipping that, make a nigga go and pick up a mac
And stick up the spot, when I should wanna rip up a track
Say fuck that, ...for you on a check
Say... we gotta bring our community back
Bring the guns... black, unity back
To come with this shit to get rid of that buffoonery rap
That soon to be looked as lunacy, cartoonery crap
The sooner we maneuver that, the sooner we could react
Fact, it's triple g's now who running with me
And I'm rep until the pack of wolves come and get me
A young girl joins a gang out in Brownsville Brooklyn
As down where they got them coke pounds still cooking
The prostitutes lurking, they still out here hooking
The booker still feeling niggas was black and brown looking
This little girl one night they gave her a burner right
Told her she wanna be gang she gotta earn the stripes
Her adolescent didact a lesson to learn in life
She shoots a kid in the back, pow, turns his life, ah
That was the 7th shooting in less than a week
The reason I feel is what I should've addressed in this beat
Check them receipts, funerals consecutively
It's the god, and by the power invested in me
I'm telling niggas to chill, and go easy on the gun play
Besides, you gonna have to learn how to fight someday
Develop a warrior spirit, let your fist talk more than your lyrics...
Check, it's real whack, that blacks only kill blacks
I know that sound off the wall but it's real fact
I shot about 8 people and they all black
I'm a dumb motherfucker's what I call that.
We are the scars of violence
Son, turn in your guns
Think my shit is too real for them
A young girl killed by a
Same thing in Jamaica queens, right in front of McDonalds
The ghetto's on fire, the pyro is nothing but sorrow
It's burning inside the soul of the future kids of tomorrow
We used to use hip hop to teach us the way
For some reason these fucking artists don't reach us today
My little cousin got popped, he was slipping, he wasn't taught in
Plus was sipping too much of that vodka puffy promoted
My mama died, niggas was sending me yak
It was ironic, that shit was called hennesy black
Sipping that, make a nigga go and pick up a mac
And stick up the spot, when I should wanna rip up a track
Say fuck that, ...for you on a check
Say... we gotta bring our community back
Bring the guns... black, unity back
To come with this shit to get rid of that buffoonery rap
That soon to be looked as lunacy, cartoonery crap
The sooner we maneuver that, the sooner we could react
Fact, it's triple g's now who running with me
And I'm rep until the pack of wolves come and get me
A young girl joins a gang out in Brownsville Brooklyn
As down where they got them coke pounds still cooking
The prostitutes lurking, they still out here hooking
The booker still feeling niggas was black and brown looking
This little girl one night they gave her a burner right
Told her she wanna be gang she gotta earn the stripes
Her adolescent didact a lesson to learn in life
She shoots a kid in the back, pow, turns his life, ah
That was the 7th shooting in less than a week
The reason I feel is what I should've addressed in this beat
Check them receipts, funerals consecutively
It's the god, and by the power invested in me
I'm telling niggas to chill, and go easy on the gun play
Besides, you gonna have to learn how to fight someday
Develop a warrior spirit, let your fist talk more than your lyrics...
Check, it's real whack, that blacks only kill blacks
I know that sound off the wall but it's real fact
I shot about 8 people and they all black
I'm a dumb motherfucker's what I call that.
Credits
Writer(s): Christoph Bauss, Brian Daniel Carenard, Volker Gebhardt
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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